Adopted Kids Are Chosen
by Livi2Jack
Summary: Mini Jack goes to High School and discovers things have changed in 35 yrs. It's a revelation. The ending has a twist involving both Jacks.


Adopted Kids Are Chosen

By Livi2Jack

Summary: Mini-Jack tries High School and finds out a few things have changed in 35 yrs.

Inspired by the last scene in Fragile Balance.

Pairings: None

Content Level: T

Season: 7

Spoilers: Through Season Nine

Status: Complete

**Disclaimer:** "Stargate SG-1" and its characters are the property of Sony Pictures, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Film Corp., Showtime/Viacom and USA Networks, Inc. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are the property of the author(s), and may not be republished or archived elsewhere without the author's permission.

* * *

"Now let's get the ground rules straight. You are responsible for cleaning your room. You will take turns with my daughter keeping the bathroom clean. Dishes go in the dishwasher after being used. Don't leave them in the sink for anyone else to clean up. Run the rinse cycle even if it's just a glass. I don't like the thing to stink. Do your own laundry. No females in your room. Friends over on weekends only. Reveille is at 0500. Bedtimes weekdays are 2100 hrs. Curfew on weekends is midnight, no exceptions." 

"You're telling me I turn into a pumpkin at midnight? What do I look like, Cinderella?"

"In point of fact, you look like a fifteen year-old punk kid, Airman." The General spoke quietly but firmly, assuring Jonathan O'Neill of his new teenage status. "No one said you have to do this, be a fifteen year-old out in the general public. If you can't handle being treated like one, we can stop here."

"Yes, sir. Ok, I get the KP. But, I'm not an Airman, anymore. I'm a sophomore civilian."

"No, you are on the government payroll as a colonel on reduced duty, half-pay. I'm a general and your commanding officer during this misbegotten operation. That means your ass is mine. So are we clear on the chain of command here?"

"Yes, sir, crystal." Jack thought for a minute. "What about an allowance, if I'm on half-pay some of that...?"

"Sure, Jack. You get $60 a week, just like Mary does."

"Sixty bucks? Are you kidding me? Um, Sir?"

"Price of the movies for two, you and a date. Price of cokes and popcorn for two. Your bus pass. Your lunch money. Or you can save it by packing your lunch. Something to save. And, money for cd's, video games, and odd bits of apparel you may decide you can't live without. Additionally, you will get a quarterly clothing allowance. All your medical is covered. Room and board is covered. Extra-curricular activities are covered. School supplies are covered. If something else comes up, leave me an email. I'll increase your savings account balance." The General scrutinized Jack carefully. "And no piercing your nose or other odd places. And no tattoos."

"General, I can handle my own money. Sixty bucks is insulting anyway you want to look at it, sir."

General Kerrigan gave O'Neill a piercing look. Jack frowned and shrugged for him to continue.

"The money is automatically deposited so I don't have to think about it. Here's your Air Force Credit Union savings account and debit card. That way you can't get overdrawn."

"Overdrawn? For crying out loud, sir, I am a fifty-one year old man, I just look like I'm fifteen."

"I'd stop there, Airman, before you get yourself a trip to the equivalent of the brig in your new universe, grounded for a month."

"But, sir..."

"I can make that a real brig, Airman." The General looked the young man over and shook his head. O'Neill was a loose cannon on a good day. As a fifteen yr-old? "And another thing, this is my house. While you live with us, you will accept your role as a teenager. You will adjust to our rules, ALL OF THEM."

"Yes, sir. It is your house. Thank you, sir."

"Dinner is at 1700 hours. Dismissed."

Jack left the room, muttering under his breath, "Napoleonic powermonger." And just like a real teenager, he grumbled and slunk off to sulk in his room until dinner at General Kerrigan's home.

* * *

Well, it sure was high school, same desks, same chairs, and the same smell of mystery meat cooking in the cafeteria. But this time the other kids just looked so young. Jack tried to concentrate on the history lesson. 

"Who was Hathor?" Mr. Gifford, the history teacher, checked the seating chart for a victim. He decided to pick on the new kid. "Mr. O'Neill, take a stab at it."

"I'd love to stab old Hathor." Some girls started to giggle. "Hathor was the Egyptian goddess of sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll. Her father and husband, Ra, the first pharaoh, corrupted her. And no he didn't have a brother, Rey." More giggles. "She was the goddess of fertility/love, inebriety, and music, according to the Book of the Dead. Oh, and she had bad breath." Hoots of giggles shattered the proceedings.

"A refreshing analysis Mr. O'Neill. But..." The bell rang. "Chapter 4 tomorrow, answer all the questions at the end. Dismissed."

At his locker, Jack removed his lunch and stowed away his books. Several girls came up to him and wanted to know if he would eat lunch with them. A few were cute. Having no other invitations, Jack said sure. He let them lead him off to the quad where they sat him under the tree and started the interrogation.

"Don't you think 'Shake That' blows?" Every eye turned to him for an answer. Jack had no idea what that was. The girl tried again. "Or do you like Mary J. Blige?"

"Yeah, I got 'Be Without You' downloaded in my iPod last night." One of the other girls piped up.

Jack smiled doubtfully.

"What's in your playlist, Jack?"

"Oh, music, right, um let's see. I've got some Beatles, some Credence Clearwater, some Aretha, and, of course, Bocelli."

"As in 'Amore' Bocelli?" One of the girls was impressed. Jack smiled enigmatically. She was cute. And this was impossible. He sat there while she prattled on about the school dance and the cheerleading tryouts and wanted to blow his brains out. "So, I have Mr. Moore for Driver's Ed. Have you gone out yet?"

"Out where?" Jack asked innocently. Keep them talking so you don't look stupid pal.

"Oh, with the instructors or are you still on the simulators?"

"I can drive."

"Really? Did you take your parent's car out by yourself?"

"Something like that."

"Wow, I mean, my dad won't even let me have a learner's permit."

A girl came up acting all perky, handing out flyers.

"A vote for me is a vote for more school dances." She giggled and smiled and bounced off. Jack smiled back delightedly and then saw the faces of the other girls and realized his mistake.

"She's running for class president, but she doesn't have a clue."

"Yeah, she's stuck on herself." And the conversation degenerated from there. It was worse than having Carter prattle on. At least, there was meat to Carter's ramblings.

"Um, gotta go ladies, thanks. Catch you later." He rose and sauntered off to find a quiet spot for the rest of the lunch period. But it was not to be. He rounded a corner to find the resident nerd getting hassled by some tough guys. From the looks of it, the nerd was about to have his face rearranged for his lunch money. A game of keep away with his glasses was the entertainment. The more he protested the worse it got, until the thing flew up and Jack caught it. Two of the tough guys malevolently went over to demand the offending eyewear.

"Lose it right here, bro." The one with the baggy pants five sizes too big cinched up at the waist with a belt big enough to saddle a horse demanded. His friend with the ski hat pulled down low and an angry demeanor joined the first one.

"Um, I don't think so. I think you should just...blow."

"Is that right. Listen to the geek. You betta watch yo'self or I'll cut you, runt." A switchblade appeared and the other fellows encircled Jack.

"Just let them have them. It's not worth it," the little guy called over. "My dad will get me a new pair."

"You shouldn't butt in where it ain't yo business." The bigger one leaned over with his fist raised. That was enough for Jack. In a split second, Fist was screaming that Jack was going to break his arm. Jack kept Fist between himself and Switchblade. The nerd ran off to get security. A crowd gathered and started to chant, "fight, fight, fight, fight."

And that's when a couple of teachers showed up and then security, at which point everyone went to detention. The school called the parental authority on record. And Jack knew it would be a long evening at home.

After being bailed out of detention, Jack was sent home. Actually, he was picked up by General Kerrigan's assistant and brought to the Air Force Academy for a dressing down.

"Two days, that's all it took. Which part of 'keep a low profile' didn't you understand?" General Kerrigan had Jack in his office at the Air Force Academy. "No one insists that you go to high school again. This was your idea. If George hadn't personally briefed me himself with Colonel O'Neill, senior, I wouldn't have agreed to this." Kerrigan sighed heavily. "I told them this was a bad idea. Get out of my sight for the rest of the day. Then figure out what you are going to do with yourself. Dismissed."

Jack turned on his heel and marched out the door. This whole high school repetition wasn't like the first time. It wasn't even close. Thirty-five years in between takes and he had no idea what he was getting into. Kids used foul language as easily as drinking water. They sassed the teachers and created chaos in the classrooms, in the halls, in the open spaces, in the parking lot, and in the gym. Oh, there were teenage toughs back in his day. But this stuff was beyond the violence he knew from a gentler time. Jack kept marching down the halls of the Academy until he found a door to the outside and went for a run.

With his head cleared a little, Jack reviewed his foray into adolescence. The coursework was too easy. Sitting in class was torture. He knew more than the teachers. The conversations were puerile. But he said he wanted to embrace the whole high school thing. Well, he surely couldn't embrace any of the girls. That would just be perverted. And he was growing another zit.

So then what was left? He could go out for sports. There was so much energy inside him. Jack couldn't remember having this much energy the first time. And he couldn't remember all the physical sensations either. The body was still growing, making his movements awkward. Just when he thought he had the arms and legs working together, one or more would get a mind of its own. More than one curb tripped him up. And the growing really had pains. Jack thought he had left his pains behind. These growing pains were just as unrelenting. And he was fairly certain that he was teething a wisdom tooth.

Returning to the campus, Jack decided to sit in a class until it was time to head home with General Kerrigan. He entered the first door and plopped down. One of the cadets eyed him wondering who the heck he was. Jack met the gaze without wavering.

"Aren't you a little young for an advanced astrophysics theory class?"

"Maybe, but aren't you a little old not to know you should mind your own business?" Jack was surly and it showed. The cadet shook his head and grinned.

"Well, you'd better have done your homework because the teacher is a bitch." He turned back to his book and continued to pour over his homework. Jack slumped back in the seat and stared at the ceiling. "You're out of uniform."

"My give a damn's busted." And the doors opened for the professor who jogged on to the stage.

"Today we have a special guest speaker. She's a world-class authority on Deep Space Radar Telemetry. And she has published some groundbreaking theories on wormhole physics. I'd like you to welcome Major Samantha Carter."

Jack's eyes nearly fell out of his head. There _SHE _was. And she was just as beautiful and sexy as he remembered. And she was just as unattainable with him in this runt body. He sighed heavily thinking it just wasn't his day.

The day didn't improve at home for Jack. Mrs. Kerrigan and her daughter, Mary, had no idea who he really was. All they knew was that the General had made a special vow to an old comrade to see his kid through high school, should the worst happen. Since the old friend had left plenty of money to raise the child, Mrs. Kerrigan figured an older brother for Mary might be nice. After meeting him, she decided he looked like a clean-cut bright boy who would fit in nicely. Jack actually felt sorry for her.

General Kerrigan worked with the S.G.C. to steer promising graduates for special training there. Beginning with the brilliant if personality challenged Jennifer Hailey, he even worked out training scenarios at the quarterly sessions. But nothing had prepared him for Jack O'Neill's clone as a household member.

"Dinner!"

Jack heard the call up in the bathroom. He smiled at the memories it evoked. The last time his mom had called him like that for dinner was decades ago. Maybe this wouldn't all be so bad. He had a new mommy, for crying out loud. Chuckling over that image, Jack took the stairs two at a time. His stomach was rumbling with the dietary needs of a growing teenage boy. Mostly that involved mass quantities of however much he could shovel in. It seemed as though he was always hungry, just like what happened with the Atoniek armbands.

Jack entered the dining room and took his seat. The General glowered at him and gestured summarily for Jack to get up and help. So he got up and went in to Mrs. Kerrigan to ask what she needed him to do. She handed him a platter and told him to take his seat.

Dinner was more like the Inquisition than a meal. Mrs. Kerrigan was intensely curious, but not any more so than her daughter, who was fourteen. It was obvious she liked the boy. It wasn't the questions so much as not being able to keep eating that bothered Jack. He was Hungry with a capital 'H.' And Mrs. K was a good cook as it turned out.

"Great pot roast, Mrs. K. I mean great." Jack shoveled another forkful with abandon. Eating like this was a nice turn of events. And being able to eat so much was even better. He didn't have to watch the calories the same way. Actually, he only had to watch them slide down his gullet.

"I understand there was some unpleasantness at school today, Jack." Mrs. Kerrigan tried to let him talk it over. She had gotten the call from the school as well.

"Um, yes, ma'am." Jack tried to avoid the question.

"He beat the daylights out of some gang bangers, Mom. They were hassling Dewey Johnson, the science nerd." Mary had a certain light of pride in her eyes. "They're always picking on him. They sure won't anymore." She beamed a smile over to Jack, who ducked it, feeding his face again and staring into his plate.

"Yes, but won't these gang bangers be after Jack now?" Mrs. Kerrigan was alarmed.

"Probably. But I can handle it." Jack assured her without thinking. And then he realized Gen. Kerrigan was nearly beet red in the face. "I'll try to keep a low profile for a few days, ma'am." Jack avoided the General's eyes.

"Isn't there anything else we can do, dear?" Mrs. Kerrigan appealed to her husband.

"If Dewey's family wants to file charges against those hoodlums, that's their problem. Let's just hope one of these fellas doesn't file charges against Jack." He stabbed his meat. "On the other hand, one of them had a switchblade and got himself expelled for the privilege."

"But, Dad, that's just so unfair. They were attacking Dewey and Jack stood up for him." Mary whined. "You're a general, can't you fix it?"

"I don't run the school, Mary. I have no jurisdiction."

"I don't care. You should know how to fix it, Daddy." Mary looked back and forth to her parents. Mrs. Kerrigan shrugged and looked pointedly back at her husband.

"Oh alright, I'll talk to the principal and see what I can do." He pushed his plate away. "But no promises. And no more fights, young man." Both men looked at each other knowing that wouldn't happen now. But it was said for the womenfolk. General Kerrigan had already spoken with all the authorities that afternoon. Jack had taken on some members of a particularly violent gang. There would be repercussions. And Jack knew it too.

* * *

The next morning, Jack counted the dots in the ceiling tiles. The history class was beyond boring, especially when he had met some of these characters up close and personal, such as Hathor. And he felt another zit growing. 

"Can anyone tell me what contributed to the Fall of the Roman empire?" Mr. Gifford looked around the class and picked up the seating chart. "Mr. O'Neill, give it a whirl."

"Ok, I'll give it a whirl." Jack twirled his pen and cleared his throat. "Several factors conspired to accomplish the fall of the Roman empire. First there was disease. So many people died of a plague, that people became stuck in their father's business. If your old man was a blacksmith, you became a blacksmith. Society became static. Then, they debased the currency. The coins were mixed with non-precious metals and inflation resulted. Commerce ground to a halt with each section of the empire refusing to ship their goods to other areas for worthless payment. The capital moved to Byzantium or Istanbul as it is called today. Thereby leaving the Italian peninsula open for predation by barbarian hordes such as the Germans, the Goths, the Lombards, the Huns, and some other bad guys." Giggles from some girls behind him broke his concentration. "And the Romans lost the will to fight." Jack looked over to see who was snickering.

"I see somebody did his reading last night. Ok, class, 500-word essay on who the Huns were. Emphasis on Attila and his connection to Roman society. Discuss the migration of ancient peoples in the context of the Fall of Rome, all due by the end of the week. Dismissed." The bell rang. Everyone go up to leave. "Mr. O'Neill, a moment."

Jack picked up his books and sauntered over to the teacher. He stood there a moment while the really cute girl went past and shot him a smile. He grinned back. "Yes, sir?"

"You don't belong in an Honors class."

"Excuse me?"

"What I mean is you belong in the Advanced Placement History class. I'm recommending you to the program. If you agree, as of tomorrow, you will go to that class for the rest of the year. At the end, you will take the AP test for college credit. It will look good for colleges when you apply."

Jack just blinked. He considered it for a moment, shrugged, and said fine. He hadn't really worried about going to college. He assumed the Air Force would find him space at the Academy. But, did he really have to do all this over again? And would the extra coursework impede his new high school experience? Sure, but it needed impeding. He was ready to crack under the boredom.

"And Mr. O'Neill, I saw what you did for Dewey. Where did you learn that move?"

"I'm sorry I don't understand."

"I was in Operation Desert Storm. I learned that in hand to hand combat training. Used it a few times over there. You did it like a pro. Who taught you?" There was respect in the teacher's eyes. Jack judged the intent and found it curious. There was something nagging him about this guy.

"My, er, Dad, was in the Air Force." Jack stuck with the cover story.

"Umm, I see. Your paperwork says your guardian is General Kerrigan, from the Air Force Academy. It makes sense. Have you considered the high school ROTC? They pay for college."

"No, sir. But I'll keep it in mind. Thank you, sir."

The teacher checked Jack to make sure he wasn't mocking him with the sir stuff. But all he found was respect. The teacher nodded his dismissal. Jack moved out. But the teacher kept looking long after Jack had gone. There was something about that kid. Oh well, it would come to him.

"There he is."

"Which one?"

"The skinny tall geek in the light colored pants. I'm gonna jump his ass. Let's see how Mr. Big he is after that."

"Wait until after school."

"Naw. We are the MS-13. We kill him now." The toughs in the Mara Salvatrucha 13 (MS-13) are named for La Mara, a street in San Salvador, and the Salvatrucha guerillas, which fought in El Salvador's bloody civil war. MS-13 will do any crime anytime, no matter how vicious. And right now, Jack was the objective.

Across the outdoor recessed area, Jack saw them coming. Maybe it was a lifetime spent in Special Forces that kept his senses alert. But whatever it was, he was in trouble. Reflexes at maximum, Jack looked for a weapon, anything to fend off the attack. The only thing he saw was a chair propping open a classroom door. Jack moved up quickly to it and smashed it until he had two legs to use as clubs. Three toughs made it up to him by then. And the fight was on.

Actually, the fight was nearly over before it began. Because of the metal detectors now installed in most public schools after the Columbine massacre, none of the gang members had a gun. Yesterday's knife was passed through the fence, but a gun was too big. And each one had a knife and one undid his belt to reveal rubber cording knotted in several places with weights in the knots. These weapons Jack could handle.

In swift order, he had broken one knife hand, brought another gang banger to the ground, and used the chair leg to wrap up the cord around the wood. Using the leverage that got him, he unbalanced the tough enough to use the second leg to hit him over the head. That cold cocked him. The one on the ground recovered enough to take a swing. Jack used his elbow to knock a blow to the kid's solar plexus. He went down. Jack karate chopped him into unconsciousness. Recovering, he made sure they were down for the count. Cheers broke out around the perimeter. And Jack saw Mr. Gifford, the history teacher nodding in approval. It didn't stop security from arresting him anyway. General Kerrigan was going to love this.

Later that afternoon, Jack was back in familiar surroundings. It should be. He had spent seven years at this table. Only this time, he wasn't leading the discussion. It was all about him. So much was these days.

"We all know what happened, son." General Hammond began. "But you are a valuable asset to the Air Force. We cannot take chances like this again. Those gang members will not quit after what you did today."

"But sir, I dealt with them. I can do it again." Jack slumped down into the briefing room chair. "Now that they know I can take them, they'll think twice."

"All they will think about is killing you now, and you know it." Colonel Jack O'Neill weighed in. "We both know what it was like down in El Salvador in the '80s. It's the same thing. Only it's here."

"It's not working, Jack. I'm sorry. I can't have you in danger because you put Mary in danger. They know you live with us. I can't let her be a target because you played Rambo in the schoolyard."

"What about high school on the base?"

"You are priceless. Get over it. It isn't going to happen." Colonel O'Neill snarled. "And, anyway, it was boring wasn't it?"

"How did you know? Okay, you know. It's why I, we, didn't like it the first time around. But it still leaves me the problem of what I'm supposed to do stuck in this scrawny little body." Jack huffed petulantly.

"We have a solution we think you'll like." General Hammond's eyes twinkled.

"What?" Both Jack's and Colonel O'Neill's head swiveled around to Hammond.

"What?" They asked each other.

"We are building a next generation battleship we're calling the X-304."

"You mean Thor finally came through?" Both O'Neill's asked together. "Stop that." They also said together. Colonel O'Neill curled his lips and wagged his finger at his clone. "Knock it off."

"Oh for crying out loud." Jack sighed. "What?"

"The Air Force is prepared to re-activate your commission if you'll spend the next three years with special tutors and learn everything there is to know about the X-304. We're naming it the _'Daedalus.'_ And..."

"That's terrible. It's another Greek tragedy. Can't we name it the..."

"NO!" Came both Generals' voices in unison.

"We cannot name it the 'Enterprise.' So get over it," said Hammond. "Anyway, son, if you will agree to learn every bit of it, we can guarantee you a place on it and then your own command within 5 years when the third one is built"

Jack sat there dumbstruck. He contemplated the ramifications and couldn't see any downside. "Do I still have to live with General Kerrigan?"

"Unless you are willing to accept base housing, yes."

"I'll take it. No offense, sir, but it wouldn't work out, me, you, the Mrs., Mary..." General Kerrigan frowned and agreed. "I get paid, right"

General Kerrigan chuckled. "Yes, and you can manage your own money"

"Sweet. Thanks. I'll do it."

"Um, sirs, can I do it too?" Colonel O'Neill wondered all hurt that they didn't ask him too.

"We need you right where you are, Colonel. I am not going to be here forever, and I have to know there is someone who can take over." He smiled a short smile at Colonel O'Neill, who decided to preen a little. "Good, so we are all agreed. Jack you can move into base housing this Saturday. Dismissed."

Everyone stood up. Jack offered his hand to General Kerrigan who accepted. And then he jumped up sticking his fist in the air and shouted, "YES!" and then pirouetted. "Oh, sorry sirs, did I say that out loud?"

The End.

* * *

**Author's Note:** To overseas readers who may not know- there is a real gun and gang problem inU.S. public schools. You have no idea until you start reading about it. I suggest searching Wikipedia for MS-13 and Columbine.TheMS-13gang is growing more and more in large population centers and are a real problem in Los Angeles all the way to Washington, DC and Philadelphia.Gangs aren't limited to just this one, although this one is currently the most virulent. I thought mini-Jack should get a dose of the new reality. While there were 'gang's when he went to school they were nothing like what is now. He had no idea what was involved when he decided to go back to high school. That's why so many now go to private schools which in the U.K. are called 'public' schools.

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